


masks

by Winterborne



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Internalized Homophobia, Kissing, M/M, Minor Injuries, mostly rated t just for explorations of internalised homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27202364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterborne/pseuds/Winterborne
Summary: Akira has his first boyfriend.Akira has his first boyfriend and his name is Kitagawa Yusuke and it’s more than Akira ever thought he’d get.They hold hands under the table at Leblanc and whenever they’re on the subway — packed, always so packed — Akira takes the opportunity to lean against Yusuke that little bit more than would be socially acceptable because no one has the space to notice.And at the same time, somehow, it’s still less than Akira had hoped for because they don't really get the chance to do much more than that.So if Akira decides to steal a few kisses while they’re infiltrating a palace or exploring Mementos? Sue him. Akira finally has hisfirst boyfriend.In which Yusuke's mask used to be far smaller and easier to steal kisses from while on.
Relationships: Kitagawa Yusuke/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	masks

**Author's Note:**

> hey there!! hope you all enjoy this, it's been sitting in my drafts forever! you can find me over on [twitter](https://twitter.com/_awinterborn) and [tumblr](https://awinterborn.tumblr.com/) (though both are 18+ sorry!)

Akira has his first boyfriend.

Akira has his first boyfriend and his name is Kitagawa Yusuke and it’s more than Akira ever thought he’d get.

Yusuke is eccentrically sincere. He says what he thinks, which is not to say that the words he chooses are unkind. Quite the opposite, in fact. He’s so focused on art, on the beauty he can pull from the existence around him, that he’ll seek it out and then let you know as soon as he finds it. Object or concept or person, he’ll point it out as if it’s as obvious to anyone else living in the real world. Peculiar most of the time, blunt at worst. But never unkind, not for unkindness’ sake at least.

And then someone will point _that_ out, how untraditionally, peculiarly straight forward and one track minded he is. Yusuke always takes that as his turn to be— no, not annoyed. Irked, maybe. Unimpressed like he’s being subjected to an art tourist’s review on the canvas’ skin surface and nothing deeper, no meat or bone to it.

And, always, Akira will stifle his laughter, watching the way Yusuke’s nose scrunches up and how suddenly he’ll hold back on saying anything else. As if there’s nothing to say, because Yusuke knows he’s strange, there’s just nothing ruder than actually blurting it out as bluntly as Yusuke does with what he notices.

They hold hands under the table at Leblanc and whenever they’re on the subway — packed, always so packed — Akira takes the opportunity to lean against Yusuke that little bit more than would be socially acceptable because no one has the space to notice.

And at the same time, somehow, it’s still less than Akira had hoped for.

When Yusuke had described Yosei’s dorms, it’d been with his usual touch of dramatics. As in, a _touch_ was putting it lightly. The only time that boy has a deft hand is when it comes to a canvas.

_Noisy, filthy, a burning hellscape_ ; each descriptor ramped up the severity from the last one. It’d reminded Akira of watching Yusuke paint, one stroke after another, building off the before to make the after _more_. It’d reminded Akira of Yusuke, just Yusuke, in how he’s trying so hard to grow himself and be more.

If only _they_ could be more.

When Akira visits Yusuke’s dorm for the first time, he wants to roll his eyes not only at how it’s obvious Yusuke was being his usual dramatic self when describing it, but also because of course the one thing Yusuke was right about would be the real issue.

The building _is_ noisy, but not because of an excess of noise. No, instead the walls are paper thin and Yusuke’s wide open room and the empty halls beyond seem to have been built specifically so they have the perfect acoustics to amplify each footstep and murmur whispered into them. Like everything said or done between those walls is being done so into a microphone; as if on a stage to make an announcement of it.

When footsteps (or laughter, the laughter is the worst) echo and reverberate into Yusuke’s room, it has Akira jerking away from their kissing, heart beating fast at the fear of someone seeing rather than what it _should_ be racing from. And then flinching all over again at the too loud smack of their own lips disconnecting. The anxiety burns like acid in his stomach, eating away at any of the butterflies still there.

Akira’s room at Leblanc is even worse, no door to speak of. It’s not like he has to worry too much about Sojiro walking in, not when the man closes shop for the night. Morgana prefers to leave them be as well. Akira would be scared that he _knew_ , except Morgana does that with everyone Akira hangs out with, even Ann. And when he returns, he’ll do so announcing it. No worries there.

And if Sojiro does come back because he forgot something or just out of some instinct that Akira is up to something he shouldn’t be? Sojiro isn’t loud but he’s not quiet either and there’s no doubt Akira would hear the ring of the door’s bell.

The thing is, the floorboards seem to creak with Sojiro’s every movement, a sound Akira is so used to hearing alongside the buzz of customer talk and tv. The cafe always feels so alive with it. It’s what Akira guesses makes it feel so welcoming, full of life and, well, Sojiro.

It’s just that the cafe — Akira’s temporary home — is like that even after closing. Full of life. Every small groan of the walls and creek of furniture feels like it’s preceding a voice, a whirr of the coffee bean grinder, the footsteps coming up to his room—

Akira pulls away before he’s even close enough to Yusuke to have it count as pulling away. Akira always feels like he’s up to something he shouldn’t be when it comes to Yusuke.

The worst thing is, he somehow feels more comfortable pressing into Yusuke on the train than the privacy of their own rooms, and isn’t that ironic? Maybe not as ironic as the fact that he feels more privacy on a packed train than he ever did in his small village home. A sense of anonymity in the crowd he could never get there. It still feels ironic enough though, a sickly, the-only-thing-you-can-do-is-laugh kind.

Akira tries to, but he’s never been good at letting go and laughing properly. Just a grunt or stifle of one to imply it could have been more.

All they can really do is hold hands under the table at Leblanc and brush shoulders as they walk with their friends (only when it’s with their friends, Akira feels far too obvious when it’s just _them_ ) and it’s less than Akira had imagined he’d get when he finally made it this far.

So if Akira decides to steal a few kisses while they’re infiltrating a palace or exploring Mementos? Sue him. Akira finally has his _first boyfriend_.

* * *

“Joker?” Yusuke laughs, fingers clasping tightly where Akira has them curled with his own. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” is all Akira says, squeezing Yusuke’s hand as he smirks like that’s the only response Yusuke needs. And maybe it’s a bit cocky of Akira, doing this just so he can turn another corner and find the nice little alcove he knew would be there. Just so he can push Yusuke against the wall and crowd into the boy’s space.

But, well, Akira isn’t Akira right now, reminded of that fact when his mask clinks against Yusuke’s. He’s _Joker_. And Joker has his first ever boyfriend pressed up against an alcove wall where no one, shadow or worse, is going to see them.

Yusuke laughs again, a soft, rumbling sound in his chest and _god_ , that’s what Akira thinks a laugh should sound like. And then Yusuke’s pulling him into a kiss before Akira can do it himself and _god, this is what Akira thinks every day should be like_.

“Here I was, thinking you’d found some masterpiece for me to see,” Yusuke says, breaking the kiss, and Akira would be disappointed if Yusuke's soft lips weren’t brushing against his with every word and Yusuke’s voice wasn’t _Yusuke’s voice_. He tugs at Yusuke’s waist anyway, because he can get the latter any time he wants.

“Are you disappointed?” Akira asks, dipping in for another kiss. He pulls away again just as quickly, despite how he already knows Yusuke’s answer.

“Not at all.” And there it is, just what he expected. Akira smiles anyway since, really, just because he gets to hear that voice whenever he wants in the real world, it doesn’t mean it’s something he doesn’t enjoy. It’s something he’ll never take for granted. He’d waited so long, after all. And then Yusuke’s pulling away and Akira’s whining because it’d been so long since the last time— “You did, though. Take me to a masterpiece, that is.”

Yusuke’s gazing over at him, one of those clever artist’s hands of his finding a strand of Akira’s hair to play with as he smiles so soft and earnest it’s like he doesn’t even realise what he’d just said. And that— That’s too unfair! Using his mouth to smile instead of kiss Akira, so close and perfectly framed by Yusuke’s mask, like it — the whole of the metaverse — was made for this, for them. For Akira to finally—

Akira hides his face inside the crook of Yusuke’s neck, cheeks burning. Yusuke really doesn’t seem to notice the effect of his own voice and words at times, and it’s just so unfair.

This time, Akira gets to both hear and feel Yusuke’s laugh.

He pries his face from Yusuke’s neck before it can start reverberating inside his head hard enough to make him dizzy, pushing himself back into Yusuke’s space again because god dammit, he came here for a reason. Granted, most of the reason they even came to the metaverse today is the fact they have Okumura’s treasure to find.

A good phantom thief is an adaptable one though. Akira can and has to change plans on the go.

Deciding a strong shadow is best avoided instead of fought, for example. Deciding they’ll need to actually talk to the shadows to find out which one they _have_ to fight when it’s needed to get a keycard. And once they’ve gotten as far as they can in that day, Akira deciding to stay around a bit longer because Haru still needs that new set of armour from Untouchable. Be can very much see that limp she’s sporting from that fight far too many fights ago and he’s nowhere near the amount of yen he needs for new armour yet.

It makes no sense to drag the others along for that. They’re tired after all, understandably so, and Akira is the _wild card_. The most adaptable one out of all of them. Their leader, who keeps the main goal in sight (steal Okumura’s heart ) while changing the details on the fly (fight shadow, avoid shadow, interrogate shadow, pick out weak shadows for extra yen, kiss Yusuke because everyone needs a few minutes of rest anyway and Akira’s rest is _Yusuke_ ).

“Joker,” Yusuke says in that carefully slow tone he puts on whenever he’s found an interesting concept and he just has to figure out the best composition for it. Except there’s no time for that because they have to be back in seven, no, now _six_ minutes and Akira needs— “Akira.”

And then Yusuke’s hands are on Akira’s hips, thumbs rubbing circles through the cloth as he tugs Akira to switch their positions and _oh_. Maybe… maybe he can afford to be Akira instead of Joker for those six (five) minutes.

It is supposed to be a break for the Phantom Thieves right now, after all.

Akira’s back knocks gently into the wall as Yusuke flips them slowly. It’s so gentle he feels almost like one of Yusuke’s paintings as Yusuke pushes flush against Akira, pinning him up against the wall. With the way Yusuke’s eyes dilate a smidge and his smile falls only for his tongue to flick out and wet his own lips, Akira knows this is the one masterpiece Yusuke would never want hung up for everyone else to see.

Akira knows that because he feels the exact same way, one hand resting at Yusuke’s waist as the other glides up to cup Yusuke’s jaw. Yusuke leans into it, head cocking just that bit to the side to do so. His eyelashes flutter closed and the sharp line of his shoulders fall as he relaxes, breathing long and heavy.

“Yusuke,” Akira says softly. It feels weird, not using Fox here in the metaverse, but that’s almost always followed by some sort of order of attack or defence and that’s the last thing Akira wants on his mind right now. Yusuke seems to agree at least, his usually sharp eyes — looking for art or enemy — soft at the edges now, fixing on Akira’s lips. Akira lets them tug up quickly before he’s pulling Yusuke in for another kiss, rough for all of one second before Yusuke guides them gently.

Unlike everything in Akira’s life as a phantom thief, it’s unhurried. No sense of impending deadline, no rolling from cover to cover, no shadow with an imminent attack. It feels almost like he’s back in the real world, back _home_ , with no need to rush. Only this time he’s able to not rush _this too_.

At the same time though, his heart is having other ideas, speeding up as it pounds against his chest. The first few times he’d done this, it’d been almost too embarrassing. Akira had scooted away from Yusuke, hoping the other boy hadn’t felt such a telltale thing as he tried to get his heavy breathing and trembling hands under control. After Yusuke had brought Akira’s hand to his own chest though, the matching drum beneath Yusuke’s ribs had given him somewhat of a confidence boost. The idea that they’re both new to this. The idea that Yusuke was willing to let Akira know how new to this he was.

And now, in the metaverse, it’s everything he needs for the adrenaline to push him forward into the kiss with abandon. Yusuke’s lips are moving slowly still, a tempo they both try to keep their breathing to despite how heavy it’s becoming. Akira can feel Yusuke’s fingers dipping oh so slightly into his hips, a gentle but insistent pressure, and Akira does the same, one hand rubbing into the small of Yusuke’s back as the other curls around Yusuke’s neck.

Yusuke lets out a small, muffled noise at that, his face feeling suddenly warm against Akira’s. And there’s no way Akira is going to let that escape him; the sight of Yusuke flustered is one he always cherishes simply because of how rare it is, even if the mask is blocking half of it. His eyes flutter open, pulling back just enough to take in the view and—

And that’s when Akira sees it, right past Yusuke’s shoulder. He barely has the time to push Yusuke out of the way, nevermind the time to dodge himself.

“Akira!” Yusuke’s shout feels far away, like they’re underwater, as Akira’s head hits the wall. The arm he’d lifted up had done nothing to soften the shadow’s blow. It doesn’t get in the second hit before Yusuke’s knocking it back, sending it flying to the ground. Yusuke doesn’t take the chance to strike again though, standing his ground in front of Akira’s prone form slumped against the wall. He’s barely keeping his eyes on the enemy, eyes skittering between it and Akira. “Joker, are you okay?!”

“Yeah,” Akira croaks. His chest hurts. Burns like his lungs have been set aflame. His arm shakes as he lifts his pistol, though the movement feels strangely weightless. His whole head feels weightless. Adrenaline, probably. It’s an easy shot, the shadow still struggling to its feet.

Akira misses four of his eight shots anyway, but half the barrel is more than he needs.

The shadow freezes where it is halfway up, rigid, before it evaporates into nothing. The gun clicks one then two more times and Akira lets his arm fall back to his side, heavy. The pistol clatters hard against the ground, shaking his hand with the force of it. His head swims with it too, like the vibration is setting deep into his bones. Akira only notices that Yusuke is back at his side when one of the boy’s hands cups Akira’s face. The hand pulls Akira’s face upright, and it’s only then that Akira realises he’d been letting his head loll to the side.

Akira leans into the touch and Yusuke frowns at that. Akira definitely doesn’t like that frown, but he does like the soft touch of Yusuke’s slightly calloused fingers, warm and sure and—

“Joker, look at me.”

Akira’s eyes shoot open, blinking several times before he can focus back on Yusuke. He doesn’t even remember closing them. There’s a deep crease between Yusuke’s brows, scanning over Akira and Akira almost wants to giggle with how intense the look is.

“You’re bleeding,” Yusuke says, a careful touch running through the back of Akira’s head. It comes back lightly stained red, the smeared blotches there glimmering in the light. Akira thinks it looks almost beautiful with Yusuke inspecting it. Does Yusuke see something beautiful there too? Akira bets he does, Yusuke always sees—

“Akira, we need to get you back to the safe room.” Yusuke’s hand comes back to Akira. In fact, both his hands come to Akira, holding onto each side of Akira’s chest. Akira doesn’t know if he’s nodding or if he’s having trouble keeping his head upright without Yusuke’s assistance. “I’m going to help you stand up now, okay?”

This time, Akira does try to nod. He doesn’t know if he manages it, but Yusuke’s lips purse regardless, something ugly like worry passing over his face. And oh. Oh, that’s right. He’d taken Yusuke here so they could kiss and relax, but now Yusuke is looking like the exact opposite of relaxed and he has to help Akira instead of the other way around. Instead of how it _should_ be.

Yusuke has Akira’s arm over his shoulders, using the wall to help prop Akira up as he raises them both to their feet, when the one door to the room opens. Akira barely feels Yusuke shifting his weight, one hand going to his katana as best as it can with Akira still plastered against him.

“Joker! Fox!” Makoto’s voice comes loud, echoing off the walls and Akira’s skulls. Akira can’t help but wince, lightheadedness giving way to a sharp pain. She runs into the room, the others — everyone — following, and each set of feet feel like they’re stamping across Akira’s suddenly sensitive temples. He squeezes his eyes shut against the pain, hiding his face into the crook of Yusuke’s neck.

“Are there any beads?” Yusuke’s voice vibrates where Akira has his face pressed against the boy’s neck. Akira can’t decide if it’s nice or more pain. All he can decide is that it’s Yusuke. And Yusuke is nice. He focuses on that instead of the background hammer of the others talking. Yusuke makes another noise that vibrates against Akira’s temple. Akira almost feels guilty taking comfort in it with how frustrated it sounds. “What about a life stone? Even devil fruit?”

“Yusuke?” Akira croaks. He doesn’t want a devil fruit. They taste awful, not like Yusuke—

“Joker, please don’t move,” Haru says, and her soft voice is almost too soft. It still hurts, like his temples are being squeezed. It takes him a second to realise that’s a hand, Haru’s this time coming away with more light blood. “You’re concussed. We need to take you to the safe room, okay?”

This time, Akira can’t form anything more than a lazy murmur. He thinks it’s supposed to be Yusuke’s name again. When Yusuke’s arm tightens around him, bringing a shot of warmth through him, he’s certain it was supposed to be that.

* * *

Akira’s lucky it’s a Saturday. He’s even luckier he has a friend like Ann. She’s nice and dependable and, most importantly for right now, is home alone most the time. Tonight is no exception. A quick call to Sojiro, and Ann is able to dodge any of his questions long enough to have him agree to let Akira sleep over without getting Akira on the phone himself.

That might be the luckiest part of it all, considering Akira had all but passed out when he fell into Ann’s bed. Haru had said there was nothing to worry about. That he should sleep to heal. He just needs someone to keep an eye on him. No one could figure out how to explain this to Sojiro, hence staying at Ann’s.

Akira thinks all that good luck came at a price though, because he has to wait 8 days and one visit to Takemi to finally go back into the metaverse. That visit is difficult to explain and Akira is now more certain than ever that the doctor knows something’s up.

He’s also incredibly certain that he wants to turn around and leave and not come back for another week as soon as he enters the palace. Okumura’s deadline being in five days be damned.

“Uh, Fox…” Makoto’s delicate start is interrupted by Futaba’s indelicate laughter. That seems to get Yusuke’s attention, instead of everyone staring at him. No one’s even looking at Akira and he already feels his face burning because oh _no_. He has no idea if Yusuke actually is this oblivious or if he has a will as determined as his love for art.

“Dude!” Ryuji says loudly, a big smile on his face. Okay, Ryuji at least seems that oblivious. He looks more curious than entertained or suspicious. “Your mask’s all big now!”

“Oh.” Yusuke brings a hand to his mask, fingers tracing over the frankly much larger outline of it. Instead of only covering his eyes, the whole thing has extended over his nose, shadowing over his mouth even. “So it is.”

And even then, Yusuke looks to everyone expectantly as if to say, _‘Well, why don’t we carry on?’_ Like it means nothing. As if there’s anything normal about this. Or anything they do, for that matter. Akira’s face is still burning brighter than the time he accidentally called a teacher mom when he was 9.

“Aren’t we on a deadline?” Yusuke asks and Akira loves the boy, but _really_?

“Hey, Oracle,” Ann says slowly, glancing at Akira just as cautiously, “you were the one who found him and Joker the other day, right?”

“Yeah!” Futaba says, laughter still lacing her voice before she finally gets it under control. That’d be somewhat of a relief if she then didn’t look over at Akira, a knowing smirk on her face. “Yeah, of course, I’m the master hacker who can see anything, you know?”

That might have felt more like a punch if Akira’s face wasn’t busy being on fire instead. Later. He’ll have time to process Futaba apparently _knowing_ later (and Ann and maybe Makoto now that he thinks about it and god, _who else is going on this list_?).

Later though because right now, he needs to be _Joker_.

“I think it looks nice.” Yusuke’s smiling, Akira can just make it out behind the now large mask. god, did this happen specifically so Akira couldn’t kiss Yusuke in the (admittedly dangerous) metaverse anymore? Yusuke looks over at him though, waiting for Akira’s opinion (he always loves hearing Akira’s opinion on art even though Akira knows nothing). The smile is barely visible, but it’s still as warm as always.

And like always, Akira’s stomach twists just as warmly too. How’s he supposed to be Joker like _this_?

“Yeah,” Akira says, trying to sound as neutral as possible. He squeaks like he’s going through puberty again. “It looks nice.”

**Author's Note:**

> if you enjoyed this, pls consider leaving a comment!! they fuel me <3
> 
> also because i'm thinking about adding a second chapter about sojiro finding out about akira and yusuke dating and being best, most supportive dad about it (only after a good heaping of angst tho ofc). this just worked all fine as a one shot anyway and the extra idea was taking quite a bit more work than i planned to figure out


End file.
